


All I Have To Do Is Dream

by jenajasper



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Angst, First Kiss, M/M, Sex for Money, Sibling Incest, a bit of oral and anal sex, guilt over realization of true feelings, realization of true feelings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-10-11
Updated: 2015-10-12
Packaged: 2018-04-25 19:32:36
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 3,104
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4973410
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jenajasper/pseuds/jenajasper
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sam and Dean thought they were living life as they should. They worked, they played, they drank but they always took that next step with someone else.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

Dean sat in his car. He hated this part, meeting them. He made the rules clear, but some of them still wanted to talk. He didn’t care what their names were, where they lived, what they did, none of that. This was a business deal, that’s all.

The brothers used to go out together. Sam did his thing; Dean did his. They would talk about it in the morning. Compare notes, as they say. But when he realized that what he wanted was walking out with someone else, he started going out alone.

He can’t remember when it happened. There never was a problem finding partners. He had a mirror; he knew what he looked like. He became very particular. They weren’t tall enough; they had to be bigger than him. The hair was too short; he wanted something to grab on to. He needed the man with the squarer jaw and the coloring, brown hair and hazel eyes. He wanted Sam.

He felt doomed. He started using the internet after wasting countless hours trolling, looking and being disappointed. Then, one day, he had a revelation. He’d stop looking and let them come to him. He found the website by accident. He had been searching out of frustration from too many nights of coming home alone, not getting what he wanted and having to take care of himself like some teenager fantasizing about the girl next door.

He made his portrait “strictly business”. His requirements described his brother practically down to his IQ. Dean was pleased with it but not too optimistic. He got his first response in two hours. 

After that first encounter, he refined his technique. He called the online chat ‘foreplay’. That’s where he set the rules. Looks were a deal breaker (he wasn’t worried about himself.) and size. He laughed at that. Maybe he should use the word height.

The rules were simple. It was just sex. They couldn't use his name but he called them ‘Sam’. He wanted no conversation, no eye contact. It was strictly suck and fuck, with little variation. Dean left with money in his pocket. He couldn’t believe men would pay for that. But, he wouldn’t do it for free. He needed some distance. He couldn’t think of ‘Sam’ as a person.

He thought it would get easier. Dean was no stranger to anonymous sex. However, this was no longer anonymous; they had a name. He thought taking money would keep it impersonal. It just made it more wrong.

Sam couldn’t understand why Dean didn’t want to talk any more, in the morning. He was afraid that his brother was doing things he couldn’t talk about. He wasn’t judging; he just didn’t want his brother to get hurt. Now, Dean was adamant about not going out together; that bothered him, too.

Seeing his brother, in the morning, became torturous for Dean. He would remember looking down at that rich brown hair as ‘Sam’s’ tongue slid across his dick and his hand stroked and squeezed, as his mouth surrounded Dean’s hardening cock and his lips sealed themselves around him, letting the saliva and heat of his breath and the motion of his tongue, as his head bobbed up and down, up and down and a sound escaped as a vibration strengthening his erection, causing Dean to buck his hips and wrap his fingers in the long hair as he thrust into the moist heat, one word on his lips, “Sam.”

And then, as he felt a shuddering, he pulled away from the eager mouth and tongue, forcing the other man’s head back to release his hardened cock. Dean directs him into position, on his hands and knees, with his ass presented as a waiting gift. Dean presses against the cleft of the cheeks, the drip and the pressure from his dick, causing the other man to shiver and push, creating friction and maneuvering the puckered hole closer. 

Dean shoves his fingers into the other man’s mouth and he licks and sucks, coating the digits with his saliva, aware that this and the leaking pre-come is all the lubrication to be offered. Even so, he’s pushing his ass into Dean, who removes his fingers and presses them into the man’s hole, scissoring and stretching without concern. 

When he is satisfied, he forces in the head and then almost brutally plunges the shaft’s length into him. And with very little adjustment, he pumps and fucks until he comes. He is forceful and demanding and selfish. Taking what he wants and imagining the face that he was looking at now. But that was not Sam. That could never be Sam, not like that. 

He was feeling a physical discomfort just from the memory.

Sam usually woke first. But, on the mornings after Dean went out, he began to find his brother showered and dressed when he got up. And hungry.


	2. Chapter 2

Sam and Dean always looked around whenever they walked in, anywhere. Sam spotted the booth, in the corner, and they moved towards it. While Sam led the way, Dean took another look around and saw the guy he was with last night. He had to drive two towns over before he met him. What was he doing here? And he still looked like Sam.

No one paid much attention to the brothers’ entrance, except the waitress, that’s her job, and the two customers seated at the counter. The taller one watched Dean then leaned and whispered to his neighbor who, in turn, snuck a peek into the corner booth.

Sam was always amazed at how much his brother could eat. And how he always got the best service. It must be that smile and those green eyes.

The two men, at the counter, prepared to leave. They shook hands; the taller man clapped the other on his shoulder and walked out. The other man went towards the rear of the diner. When he reached the corner table, he stopped. Dean spoke without lifting his head. “Look, buddy, we’re trying to eat. So, if you’re done..” The man asked, “You’re Dean, right?”

They both looked up and Dean answered. “Do I know you?” The man slipped a folded scrap of paper into Dean’s hand as he said, “You could”, and left the diner. Dean crumpled the note without reading it. He let Sam know he was ready to go and Sam could see that his brother was angry. The questions would have to wait. Dean dropped the crumpled paper, along with some cash, on to the table. Sam picked up the paper.

Dean got behind the wheel, of the Impala, and slammed the door so hard he shook her, all two tons. Sam got in and asked, “Dean, what was that, a job?” He had no idea how right he was. Dean laughed to himself before answering. “Yeah, kind of a referral. Let it go, Sam.” They drove back to the motel in silence.

Once in their room, Dean started packing. They had decided on a few days off, so, Sam didn’t understand the hurry. He asked for an explanation but his brother simply continued what he was doing and asked Sam to do the same. He just wanted out of there.

Sam excused himself, on the pretext of retrieving an empty duffle from the car, and left the room. Once outside, he pulled the note from his pocket and read it for the first time. It was just a name and a number. They had no secrets about this. They both did it. Why would Dean be so upset?  
He wasn’t sure he was doing the right thing but, something was bothering Dean. He decided to call.

After two rings, a man answered. Hesitating, Sam spoke up, “Um, hi. You left your number at the diner.”  
“Dean, great!” Sam said no. “Oh. You the other guy? That’ll work. Listen, we can meet wherever..”  
Sam was a little startled, “Meet? Wait a minute.”   
After a short pause, the man continued. “Ok, business first, huh? Well, if you’re with Dean, you know the drill. I’ll give you..”   
Sam hung up. He couldn’t get over the conversation. How could Dean belittle himself like that? 

How could someone so beautiful, so sensitive and caring put a value as meaningless as money on himself, on his time, on the pleasure of his company. 

He imagined running his own hands along the smooth lines of Dean’s perfect face. He thought of someone thinking they had the right, because they paid for it, to touch the roundness and the plump flesh of his lips, to look into the depth of his eyes. The liquid green of it transporting you to another place where time is non existent and it’s only a sense of desire and want that lives inside you.

Sam felt himself reacting to these thoughts and pressed heavily on his crotch. He felt confused. He should be angry. Why would he do this for money. They always found ways to get money. He soon became angry. How could his brother be so reckless . And why would he put a price on something so precious. He was determined to find out. 

When he returned to the room, he found his brother seated, with his elbows on the table and his head in his hands. He looked up when he heard his name. Dean raised his hand to stop Sam and, pushing the chair back, he stood up, grabbed his bag and left the room. Sam soon followed.

They drove over forty, awkward and uncomfortable, miles when Dean, suddenly, pulled off the highway and followed the signs to a scenic overlook spot. Sam said, “What are you doing? You hate these things.” Dean didn’t answer. They each exited the car and walked toward the railing.   
“I just don’t get looking at nothing”, Dean said, “ But you like it.” 

Sam smiled. He knew an apology when he saw one. Dean walked to the car, grabbed a beer from the cooler, and hopped on to the trunk. Sam spent a few minutes more with the view, then, joined his brother. He asked him if he was okay. 

A short time went by before Dean spoke. “I have to tell you something.” Sam let his brother talk. “That guy, at the diner, I didn’t know him. But the other guy…”  
Sam interrupted, “I called the number.”   
Dean slammed his fist down, hard. He spoke from hurt not from anger. “Why would you do that?” Dean closed his eyes and shook his head. He looked up, at the sky, before continuing.

Dean wanted to tell Sam the truth. He had sex with men who reminded him of his brother. He only took the money to punish himself; he knew that. How could Sam understand any of this?

“I’ve done things. Things I never wanted you to know about.”  
“So have I, Dean.” Sam told him that it didn’t matter. Dean told him that he wouldn’t understand. Dean shook his head again and looked at his brother who said, “It’s okay, Dean. You don’t have to explain yourself to me. I just want to know what’s wrong.”

It really didn’t matter. Sam would probably never speak to him again. But he couldn’t do this any more. Dean muttered, “He wasn’t my type.” Sam gave him a puzzled look. Dean sighed, “Did you notice the other guy, at the counter?” Sam nodded and Dean waited. Sam described the man. “Brown hair, slim, about my height.”

Dean said, “Get it, now?”


	3. Chapter 3

The silence went on for so long and was so complete, that as the traffic went by, Dean could hear the music from car radios. He swore he heard the guitar solo from something ‘Pink Floyd’ ; at first, so faint, it was almost imaginary. Then it increased, with the approach of the car, until it was at full volume. Then, it drifted away and faded. It wasn’t even a minute but, it felt like forever.

“Say something. Hit me, anything, please Sammy.”

Sam slid off the Impala’s trunk, dropping his beer, and turned his back on his brother. He was holding his head and looking down at the ground. As Dean felt the movement of the car, he turned to look at Sam. He wrinkled his brow and blinked his eyes, reacting to the start of tears. His breath came out, in a huff, then he pressed his lips together, closing his eyes and slowly shaking his head,

Sam ran his hands through his hair as he lifted his head and looked up at the sky. He thought again of what Dean had just said to him, or not exactly just said to him. That guy in the diner looked like him, kind of. And Dean was with him, last night. ‘With him’, he repeated to himself, in a whisper only he could hear, He didn’t know what to do or what to say but, he couldn’t leave Dean alone with this. 

He said the only thing that came to mind. “Dean”, Sam said, “ I don’t understand.” But that wasn’t totally true. He understood what Dean was telling him. He just couldn’t understand what was supposed to happen now. 

Dean could feel a heat rise from inside, all the way up to his face and he knew it was embarrassment and humiliation. “You don’t have to look at me but, please don’t make me say it again. Sammy, I’m sorry” Dean sat on the car; he had his forearms resting on his thighs. His hands hung loosely with the beer bottle swinging precariously from his fingers. 

Now Sam felt himself fighting his emotions. His brother sounded so broken and he just wanted to hold him. He wanted to let Dean know that everything would be okay but, wasn’t it wrong? 

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

It had been so simple. They worked, they played, they drank, then they always took that next step with someone else. It always made sense. They both liked men. Maybe it was the life. No attachments, just sex. They didn’t want soft and sweet. The only relationship they needed was between the two of them, brothers.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

“Dean”, Sam spoke softly. His brother only shook his head without looking up. It was probably good that Dean couldn’t see his face. If he thought he was to blame for this...Sam’s thoughts trailed off.

Sam turned and saw Dean’s posture for what it was. He looked defeated and so alone, it was painful. He thought again of Dean taking money for sex. He felt a knot in his stomach that brought the taste of beer and bile up to his throat. He gagged from it. That he would degrade himself to keep that secret, punish himself to protect him. He idolized his big brother; he loved him.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Dean’s thoughts were spinning around in his head. What did he just do? What did he just do to them? How could he say these things to Sam? He loved his brother, so much, too much? Never too much. 

He thought he could handle it. They were out there. The guys that were close enough, almost Sam. He was kidding himself. It wasn’t the looks, the height, the hair, not even the hazel eyes. He needed the real thing but, what kind of sick bastard wants his brother?

He heard Sam speaking to him. He wasn’t angry. He should be angry; he should be furious. What was this, pity? He’d rather take a beating. He decided to just get it over with. 

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

With each thrust, towards the end, Dean repeated, “Say my name,Sammy,say my name.” This ‘Sam’ didn’t know his name and with a ragged breath he said so. Dean was oblivious, lost in his own imagination. And in his head he heard Sam say, “Yes, Dean, yes.”

And when it was over, he collected his money. and on his way out the door, he looked over his shoulder and said, “My name is Dean.” He had never done that before. He didn’t care if they knew his name; he didn’t want them to know his name. All he wanted was Sam. 

That was last night. That was the last night.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Dean raised his head to find that Sam was standing right in front of him. He hadn’t heard his steps or felt the nearness of him. He could always tell when Sam was near him. It rattled him and his beer bottle slipped from his fingers. The only sound in the world, at that moment, was the clink as the bottle hit the metal fender and then the thud as it hit the ground.

They looked at each other for, what seemed to them, an unbearable length of time without speaking. Sam looked at his brother, his brow wrinkled and his expression somewhere between pain and loss. Dean looked up, his eyes wet with tears that had already spilled out and he raised his hand to wipe them away. 

Sam reached out to block Dean’s movement. Expecting a blow to follow, Dean leaned back. he turned his head slightly and looked out of the corner of his eye. He lowered his hands to prepare for what would come next. 

Sam smiled, it was small and unsure but, Dean looked beyond that to his eyes. Sam couldn’t hide his emotions from Dean; his eyes always betrayed him. Now Dean had a complex look on his face. And this expression made Sam’s smile match his eyes. 

Sam slowly took his brother’s face in his hands, never taking his eyes from Dean’s gaze. He used his thumbs to wipe away his brother’s tears. Real life doesn’t have slow motion but everybody knows it happens. Sam moved himself closer as he drew Dean towards him. And after an initial instant of resistance, perhaps fear or just disbelief, Dean gave in. 

Dean’s mouth was slightly opened. Sam could feel the warmth of Dean’s breath as he barely let their lips touch. He took that plump bottom lip in his mouth and he gently sucked and unable to control himself, he grabbed it with his teeth and then, losing all control, let it slide out of his mouth with a sigh. 

Immediately, Dean reacted. He reached around and pulled Sam closer. He had one hand on the back of Sam’s neck forcing the kiss to continue. It was tentative but sure. It was tender but strong. They both knew it was wrong but they didn’t care. 

Sam and Dean made a decision that day, by the side of the road, at that beautiful scenic overlook.


End file.
